


Double Agent

by LeilaKalomi



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has Feelings (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has Self-Esteem Issues (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Canon-Typical Homophobia (it's Shadwell), Gen, Holy Water, Scene: Soho 1967 (Good Omens), Shadwell POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24110911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeilaKalomi/pseuds/LeilaKalomi
Summary: Shadwell's just minding his own business (literally) when he gets a very odd client with an unusual request. He doesn't care as long as he gets his money and doesn't have to go back to prison. And as it happens, this might even open up another opportunity...Or: Why Shadwell is somehow getting paid by both Aziraphale and Crowley, told in 500 words (more or less). This version is expanded slightly from the original prompted version.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Sergeant Shadwell, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Sergeant Shadwell (Good Omens)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 63
Collections: Name That Author Round 3: After Dark





	Double Agent

**Author's Note:**

> This work includes some casual use of homophobic language, consistent with Shadwell's behavior in the book and TV show. Nothing particularly hateful is said or done. But it _is_ Shadwell.

_1967_

Shadwell rolls his eyes before the man even gets to Narker’s. He’s a wispy-looking thing, plump and dreamy, head-in-the-clouds sort, constantly looking around him and smiling. Blond hair. Pale clothes. Cravat. Some kind of pansy.

He pushes open the door and strides in with the kind of imperial, satisfied air people get when they believe in rules and follow them. Shadwell can relate to that, at least.

“Hello, I’m looking for a locksmith.”

Shadwell grits his teeth. Narker’s _is_ a locksmith’s. Obviously you come here, you’re looking for a locksmith.

“Aye,” he says, finally. “That I am.”

“Oh, good,” the man says, clasping his hands. “You see, I need you to let me into a car. That, and help a...a _friend_ of mine with a burglary. He’s looking for one, too. A locksmith. Oh, and you _mustn’t_ mention to him about the car. Or—or me at all. It’s nothing illegal. I know how it sounds. It’s just...well, you see, he won’t actually burgle anything at all!”

“You just want to rob his car.”

“What? No! Of course not.”

* * *

Shadwell hasn’t any idea what he’s gotten mixed up in, but he does what the man says. More or less. The car’s a little hard to get into, especially with His Royal Highness breathing down his neck. His hand is wrapped around something patterned in tartan, same as his cravat. And he smells like Earl Grey tea. Great Southern pansy. Shadwell sighs. He’d thought the man would just leave whatever it was (a thermos of tea?) in the car, but instead, he just sort of looks around, then closes the door again, delicately. Then he smiles at Shadwell, something too big and bright.

“I’ll be back when it’s over,” he says to Shadwell. As if Shadwell cares; he just wants his money. “Thank you ever so much for helping me with this.” He hands Shadwell a few bills, far more than it would normally cost just to unlock a car door (though it had been strangely difficult).

“Right,” Shadwell says. “Look—”

“Oh, I’ll pay you the rest once your meeting’s over. I’ll come round to your shop. I—I’m afraid I—I need to make sure I have all the information. You’d better get inside. Keep good notes for me, won’t you? Oh, this is all rather _thrilling_. I do hope it doesn’t awaken anything in me. I fear there’s quite enough of...of that sort of thing already. With me, I mean,” the man adds sadly. “I’m not at all what I ought to be, I’m afraid.”

 _Well, at least he knows it_ , Shadwell thinks, frowning at him.

* * *

There’s a group of them inside, two men and a woman. The man at the far side stops talking when Shadwell enters. It’s obvious he’s the brains of whatever operation this is, the one the pansy is so keen on. His lapels are almost as wide as his head. He’s a skinny thing, a bit poncy, too.

Shadwell doesn’t listen much to the details, though he’d told His Highness that he would. He picks up on the church robbery. Picks up that this gent seems to have just as much money, if not more, than the pansy. He’s just got one question before he makes this one an offer of service, too, before he decides to play them off of each other. Double agent, as it were.

“There’s nae... _witchcraft_ involved, is there?”


End file.
